Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“I give you hard, I’ll blow.”
“I don’t care,” I gasped as he shoved in so deep that my breath caught. “Please.”
He didn’t hesitate after that, fucking me hard and fast.
My back was a solid bruise now, but I didn’t care. He fucked me straight into the wall, and it was the best thing I’d ever felt in my life.
It was different without a condom.
Hotter. Rawer. Wetter.
He groaned, “Gonna come.”
I reached my hand down between us in a desperate attempt to follow him.
All it took was one rotation of my clit and I was detonating.
He let out a strangled groan and followed right behind me, filling me up with his release.
His grunt of completion was hot, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at his face as it tensed.
He looked like he was ready to murder the world when he came.
It was awesome.
Our breaths were sawing in and out of our lungs when he finally pulled out and set me on my feet.
I looked down in time to see his release run down the length of my thigh to my calf.
“Messy,” he mused as he watched a second glob follow the first.
“I’ll say,” I said. “We’re going to have to bring towels with us everywhere we go.”
He chuckled. “Let’s go shower.”
We did.
And when I went to go back to my RV, he stopped me by tangling his fingers into my wet hair. “No. My bed tonight. I might want that again. And I don’t want to have to traipse across my yard to get it.”
I didn’t argue.
Mostly because I wouldn’t mind doing that again.
By the time that my head hit the pillow in his bedroom, sprawled out on my stomach naked as a jaybird, I knew that this was going to be the new norm for us.
Me staying in his bed, and the RV just blocking the view.
The sad thing was, I didn’t let myself get too excited.
Good things always came to an end, especially for me.
Twenty-Two
In banana years, you’re bread.
—Sage to Gentry
Sage
The next morning, I was a little less excited about my day.
The impending long day didn’t bode well for the lack of sleep I’d gotten last night thanks to my ability to overthink everything.
Though I wasn’t complaining about that lack of sleep.
I got to spend the night in Gentry’s arms, and when he woke and found me still awake around two that morning, he’d exhausted me to the point where I had no other choice but to fall asleep.
I’d spent half the night thinking about what was going on with Gentry and me, and whether we could put labels on what we had. The other half of the night I’d thought about missing little boys in the area, and the files that I could go through to hopefully help locate them, possibly find a connection.
“You okay?”
Gentry’s low, rumbly voice had me glancing over at him from the passenger seat of his truck.
Gentry drove me to work again, thanks to a new dusting of snow on the ground when we’d woken up.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
I wasn’t fine.
I had all the questions.
What were we doing? Did he feel the same way about me that I felt about him? Would he want me to stay with him again tonight? Were we telling people that we were together? Were we together?
The questions were endless inside my brain, and I wasn’t going to voice a single one of them.
He grunted, then pulled off the main road into a parking spot along the front of the only coffee shop in town. “What do you want to drink?”
I blinked at him. “Ummm…”
“I’ll just go in there and get hot chocolate or something if you don’t know,” he warned.
I bit my lip. “I like hot coffees. Anything with a lot of sugar and milk.”
His lips quirked. “I think I can handle that.”
He bailed out of the truck and headed toward the front door of the coffee shop.
I watched him through the window as he greeted the older woman behind the countertop.
A large man came from the back room and offered Gentry his hand. The two shook hands, and then the man behind the counter went to work pulling stuff out of the display case and putting it into a box.
The older woman went to work on two coffee orders and then placed them on the counter with a straw.
By the time that Gentry made it outside, I was practically hyperventilating.
The man knew that I drank my coffee with a straw.
He also knew that I liked something sweet with my coffee, hence the box he was carrying alongside the coffees that he had balanced in one hand.
I rolled down my window when he got to me and took the box from his hands.
When I had it safely in my lap, he handed me the straw and the coffee.
“I told her to surprise me on the drink,” he said as he waited for me to get settled before he rounded the truck.